Gunslinger

On 5th February, E Company moved into the line as the 506th relieved the 313th Infantry of the 79th Division in the city of Haguenau. The population was nearly 20,000, which was big time for the paratroopers in Europe. Carentan had about 4000 residents, Mourmelon about 4500, and Bastogne about 5,500. Haguenau lay astride the Moder River, a tributary of the Rhine River. E Company’s position was on the far right flank, at the junction of the Moder and a canal that ran through the town.

The company occupied the buildings on the south bank, whilst the Germans held the buildings on the north bank. The river was high with a swift current. It varied at some spots from between 30 to as much as 100 metres wide. It was too far to throw grenades across but close enough for machine gun, rifle and mortar fire. Both sides had artillery support. A few kilometres behind their lines the Germans had a huge railway gun from World War 1. It fired huge shells as big as the 16 inch naval guns that had supported the Americans at Utah Beach.

The paratroopers moved into buildings that had been occupied by the 79th Division. Some of Dana’s men from 1st platoon took over a building at the juncture of the Moder and the canal. The 79th Division men told 1st platoon that this was a quiet sector with no offensives on either side. Dana noted, however, that the 79th boys took off in a god-awful hurry about the briefest of briefings. Quiet sector my ass, Dana said to herself as she helped the boys to set up.

The building that 1st squad of 1st platoon occupied was a wreck. Sections of wall had been blasted away, the roof partially removed by mortar shells, all the windows were broken, the floors ankle deep in plaster, bricks and broken glass. The banisters had been ripped off the stairs for firewood, the toilets were blocked, and the basement was a cesspool of ashes, BO and ration cans. They men looked around their new abode, and compared it to the foxholes.
“We got it made!”, Fitzwilliam said with a grin. This was the first time anyone in the squad had lived indoors on the firing line. The men set out to improve their quarters. They re-arranged the cellar by putting bunks and C rations in one room, and throwing the trash in another. After some scrounging, Brian found some gas burning lamps and a working stove. Fitzwilliam spliced into a German field telephone system and established communications with the 1st platoon CP. When they needed to relieve themselves, they went to the third floor, where the toilet bowl was only “half full”. Private Melville, 1st platoon’s radio man, paid a visit.
“If you think this is good”, Melville remarked, “you should see company HQ. They’re living like kings.” He looked around again, and then added “them bastards.”

When Dana walked into company HQ a few hours later, she looked around in awe at the opulent house that had been commandeered by the Americans. Private Melville was sorting out the rations at a table just inside the door.
“Oooh, Hershey bars”, Dana commented, eyeing the box that Melville had just opened.
“There’s not enough to go around”, Melville whined, slapping Dana’s hand away from the chocolate. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he smiled guiltily. “We’re waiting for another drop-off”, he added.
“But it’s chocolate”, Dana implored. “I’m a woman, I need chocolate.”
“Here, have some Juicy Fruit”, Melville said, slapping a packet of the gum in front of Dana. “Happy?”
“Oh, give the girl some chocolate”, came a voice from close behind them. Dana and Melville both turned and smiled upon seeing Private Smarelli standing there beaming at them in a fresh clean uniform.
“Well, look what the cat drug in”, Melville said, then tossed a Hershey bar to Smarelli.
“Hey, how come he gets one?”, Dana asked, turning to look at Melville.
“He got shot in the ass”, Melville responded with a smirk. As Dana was turning to leave, Lister and Fitzwilliam wandered into the CP.
“Hey, Hershey bars”, Lister shrieked. Melville threw his arms over the chocolate.
“There’s not enough to go around!”, he yelled. As Dana was walking outside, she heard another voice scream “Hershey bars!”, and she chuckled. Melville was going to mobbed for his chocolate soon.

**********************

As on the island, movement by day was impossible as snipers were always ready to blast anyone caught in the open. The least movement would bring down mortars; two or three men outside would just justify a couple of rounds from the 88s. The company’s task was to hold the line, and send out enough patrols to keep contact with the Germans and serve as forward artillery observers. Brian’s squad held observation post No. 2. Two men, one at the third floor window, the other in the basement with the telephone, were on duty for an hour at a time. From the window, the men had a beautiful view of the German section of town. They could call for artillery fire just about whenever they wanted. The Germans would reply in kind. Whilst the monster railway gun was so far to the rear that the men could not hear it fire, they could hear the low velocity shell coming from a long way off. It sounded like a train. Butler heard it coming when he was sitting at the window, and he had time to dash downstairs into the basement before it landed. Although the men lived in constant danger, as a direct hit from the railway gun would destroy whole buildings, they were in a sense spectators of war.

Replacements came in, and this was distressing to the veterans, because when an airborne division, which was usually brought up to strength in base camp in preparation for the next jump, received reinforcements while on the front line, it meant that the division was going to continue fighting. At OP 2, four very scared, very young boys fresh from jump school joined the squad. Brian’s heart sank.
“Why does the Army choose to send its youngest, most inexperienced members straight from basic training to the nastiest job in the world?”, Brian asked Dana.
“Who the hell knows”, Dana responded. “I think they just like us watching them die.”

One of the replacements was 2nd Lieutenant Henry Mortimer, a West Point graduate who had completed jump school at Camp Benning in late December. Mortimer was clean-cut, cocky and likeable, and eager for a chance to prove himself. He would quickly get his opportunity. Captain McKenzie needed some live prisoners for interrogation. On 12th February, he asked Somerville to arrange to grab a couple of Germans. Somerville was still a Captain, a distinct disadvantage in dealing with the other two battalion commanders, who were both Lieutenant Colonels. However, he had friends on the regimental staff, where Colonel Brooks was Executive Officer, and McKenzie was an old E Company man. McKenzie scrounged up some German rubber boats for Somerville to use to get a patrol over the river. Somerville picked E Company for the patrol. The patrol would be a big one, twenty men strong, drawn from each platoon plus Company HQ section plus two German speaking men from regimental HQ.

Mortimer advised Somerville that he wanted to be included on the patrol, eager to prove himself.
“When did you graduate West Point?”, McKenzie asked Mortimer, as he was waiting for an answer from Somerville.
“June 6th, 1944”, Mortimer replied. McKenzie’s eyes widened.
“D-Day?”, he asked. Mortimer nodded. “Don’t get hurt”, McKenzie chuckled.

Lieutenant Higgins picked Dana, Delinsky, Butler and Hobbs from 1st platoon. Once across the river, the patrol would divide into two parts, one led by Sergeant Hampstead with Lieutenant Mortimer observing, and the other by Sergeant Collins. The selected members of the patrol spent two days outside Haguenau practicing the handling of the rubber boats.

On 14th February, Somerville and Dunn visited OP 2, much to the dismay of the 1st squad, because they stood in front of the building studying the German position with binoculars, gesturing with their hands and waving a map. The men inside cursed heartily, fearing that a German observer would spot them and call down artillery fire on their cosy home.

The plan Somerville and Dunn worked out would call on E Company to display many of tis hard-earned skills. The lead scout would be Corporal Kellett, a part Indian who had a reputation for being able to “smell Krauts”. The patrol would rendezvous at a D Company OP, where they would be supplied with coffee and sandwiches before jumping off. They would stay there until 11pm then go to the river under the cover of darkness and launch the first rubber boat. The first boat would carry a rope across the river to fasten to a telephone pole on the north side so that the others could full their boats across. Once they reached the German lines, the patrol would split into two sections, with one under Sergeant Collins going into town, the other under Sergeant Hampstead going to a house on the bank of the river suspected of being a German outpost.

Whether the patrol succeeded in getting prisoners or not, it would have plenty of support for its retreat back across the river. If either section ran into trouble, or got its hands on prisoners, the section leader would blow a whistle to indicate that the withdrawal was under way. That would be the signal for both sections to gather at the boats, and for Lieutenant Dunn and Sergeant O’Shea to start the covering fire. The covering fire had been worked out down to the smallest details. Every known or anticipated German position was covered by designated rifle fire, machine gun, artillery and mortar fire. A 57mm anti tank gun was borrowed from Division and placed to shoot into the basement of a house that could not be hit by indirect artillery fire. D Company had a 50 calibre machine gun that they had stolen from 10th Armored at Bastogne. The 1st platoon would have its 30 calibre machine gun set up on the balcony of OP 2, ready to spray the German dwelling across the river, if necessary.

The night of 15th February was still and dark. The German mortars shot only a couple of flares and one or two 88s fired. The American artillery was silent, waiting for the whistle. The searchlights were out, as per Dunn’s request. The Americans shot no flares, there was no small arms fire, there was no moon and there were no stars.

The first boat got across successfully. Two others, including the boat with Dana and Butler, made it across however the third boat carrying Delinsky and Hobbs capsized. The boat drifted a hundred metres downstream, however the men managed to get out and tried again. The boat capsized again so they gave up and returned to OP 2.

Mortimer and Hampstead gathered the men who had made it over, divided them and set out on their tasks. As Hampstead moved up the north bank of the river, he stepped on a Schu mine and was killed. Dana gathered the remainder of the section and continued toward the target, eight men following her. When she got close enough to the German outpost, she fired a rifle grenade into the cellar window. As it exploded, the men rushed the building and threw hand grenades into the cellar. As those grenades exploded, Dana led the men into the cellar. Private Middleton moved a little too quickly following the blast, and he was hit in the face and head by fragments of shrapnel. In the cellar, the Americans found the still-living Germans in a state of shock. They grabbed one wounded and two uninjured men and dashed back outside. Dana blew the whistle that she had grabbed off Hampstead’s remains. The signal unleashed a tremendous barrage. It shook the ground as heavy artillery from the rear was supplemented by mortars and the anti-tank gun. Brian, who was watching from the balcony of OP 2 saw a sheet of flame, then a red ball shoot into the basement of a dwelling across the river. The artillery shells flashed orange on the German roads and strong points. Half a mile away directly in front of OP 2, a house started to burn. D Company’s 50 calibre gun opened up behind them in a steady bark. A solid stream of tracers shot up the creek, provoking a duel with a German burp gun which hosed just as steady a stream of tracers back at D Company from the protection of an undamaged cellar.

Dana and her men dashed back to the boats, where they met Collins and his section. As they started to cross, they decided that the wounded German solider was too far gone to be of any use so they abandoned him on the river bank. Dana felt bad for doing so, however she stopped Private Sharkey from drawing his pistol to kill the man.
“Hold your fire”, she whisper yelled. “He’s not going to do us any harm, and there’s no point revealing our position.” Some men swam, using the rope to pull themselves back across, and others used the boats.

Once across, the patrol members ran to the cellar at OP 2, pushing the two prisoners in front of them. As they reached the cellar, German artillery shells exploded in the backyard, the beginning of a barrage by the Germans all across E Company’s line. Down in the cellar, the patrol members crowded around the prisoners. They were excited, many of the men shouting over the tremendous noise.
“Lemme kill ‘em, lemme kill ‘em”, shouted Sharkey, rushing toward the prisoners with his pistol drawn.
“Get out of here, Sharkey”, Dana yelled. “They want these bastards back at battalion!” She glanced at the two prisoners, one a sergeant, and one a staff sergeant. They stood calm, like rocks, in a hot smelly room full of men who wanted to kill them, though both never moved a finger or altered their facial expressions. They were the most poised individuals Dana had ever seen.

As the explosions outside increased, Private Middleton, wounded on the patrol began screaming.
“Kill me! Kill me! Somebody kill me! I can’t stand it!” His face was covered in blood from a grenade fragment that had pieced his skull and lodged in his brain. Brian quickly telephoned for a medic with a stretcher. Brouchard advised that he would be there in a flash. Meanwhile, Middleton continued to call out. “Vandenberg! Where’s Vandenberg?”, he sobbed, Dana went to him and held his hand.
“It’s OK buddy, it’s OK. You’ll be alright. Help’s on its way.”

Brian stuck a morphine surette into Middleton’s arm. He was in so much pain by this time that Dana, Brian, Butler, O’Shea and Delinsky had to hold him down on the bunk. Brouchard arrived with another medic and a stretcher. As they carried the patient back toward the aid station, Dana walked beside the stretcher, holding Middleton’s hand. He died before reaching the aid station.

Brian consoled Dana as Brouchard covered Middleton’s face with a sheet.
“He’s barely nineteen”, Dana sobbed. “Nobody that young needs to go through all this shit.”
“You’re only 22”, Brian reminded her. “You’re leading the men through all this shit and giving them someone to look up to. That’s why he asked for you.”
“It doesn’t make it any easier to see someone die”, Dana sighed.

During a pause in the German barrage, guards escorted the prisoners back to Captain Somerville at battalion HQ. Dana handed over the live prisoners. The sergeant talked a lot, whereas the staff sergeant remained silent.